


fingertips

by emptyhalf



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Feelsy sex, Friendship love, M/M, frantic shagging to affirm how much you like each other, porn with absolutely no plot but a couple of feelings, sex between friends as a loving thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-16 09:14:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29947770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emptyhalf/pseuds/emptyhalf
Summary: Lando flicks off the Insta live and Max calls him before he has the chance to even put his phone down on the passenger seat, let alone pull out of the MTC car park.“Hello? You missed me already?”
Relationships: Max Fewtrell/Lando Norris
Comments: 15
Kudos: 68





	fingertips

**Author's Note:**

> i am having a very, very bad night. this was basically done in my drafts and i kind of just wanted ...something nice to think about for a minute. so it's kind of a mess, sorry.

Lando flicks off the Insta live and Max calls him before he has the chance to even put his phone down on the passenger seat, let alone pull out of the MTC car park.

“Hello? You missed me already?”

He’s trying to take the piss but actually, he does miss Max. A lot. It’s irrational, given he saw him yesterday but Lando’s tired and restless from the simulator and he  _ wants. _

“ _ Yeah. _ ” Max’s voice is a warm purr, through the iPhone speaker, "I'm already in my car. I lied, I wasn't going inside."

Lando's heart thuds and it's ridiculous "Are you coming over?" 

"If you want." Max's voice is low, that teasing lilt of not at  _ all  _ casual that says exactly what he'd be coming over for and makes Lando's dick twitch in his sweatpants. 

*Yeah, I really do." Saying it makes Max’s breath hitch, just enough to be able to hear if you know him as well as Lando does and the wanting turns to an ache stretched somewhere between Lando’s lips and thighs, feeling suddenly incomplete without Max’s body against his.

There’s a short silence on the call, until he hears what’s unmistakably Max clicking his seatbelt in. “How long will it take you?”

“An hour? Maybe a little bit less if it’s quiet?”

“Yeah? I’ll be waiting.” Lando fumbles his keys into the car, still unfamiliar with the rental Skoda, knees knocking against the steering wheel and the pedals somehow never where he expects even if he rearranges the seat five times before going anywhere. 

“Yeah.” Max pauses again and Lando can hear a similar key-fumble going on, although Max has no possible excuse, in his own car, other than being clumsy when he’s turned on. “See you in a bit, then.”

The line goes quiet and he takes the opportunity to stretch in his seat, catalogue whether there’s food or tea bags in his house. Or well, more importantly whether there’s lube and condoms or if he has to make another stop at a garage where he desperately hopes he isn’t recognised because horny overrides embarrassment, for sure.

Fortunately, he’s pretty sure last week’s supplies are still good and he won’t have to make a detour to a  _ different  _ petrol station to the one he usually uses and try to disguise himself with whatever the fuck’s in this car. Not again. Yet. He really needs to get better at ordering stuff on the internet.

Just thinking about lube has him pretty distracted and it’s just as well going from the MTC to his house is basically muscle-memory by this point, empty roads providing no surprises. It’s not even just wanting to come or even fuck, it’s the idea of touching Max and getting touched back and feeling their skin against each other and being comfortable asking for stuff. He wants  _ Max  _ and the way Lando feels comfortable about himself, with him.

He wants to suck Max’s dick, feel it heavy, twitching in his mouth and hear Max moan and swear when Lando swipes his tongue over the head, dips it against the tight point where his foreskin pulls back that’s  _ so  _ sensitive. He wants Max to come in his mouth and then do whatever dirty stuff he can think of to Lando until he’s spent and sweaty and feels played-out, cared for by Max.

It leaves him sitting for a few seconds, dry-mouthed, in the car before he gets out and has to check three times if he’s picked his stuff up. Opening the door takes three goes and then trying to work out what he ought to do in the forty minutes or so until Max arrives needs a glass of gold water before his brain starts working again and he goes for a quick, cool shower and checks on the state of his bedroom, decides it’s basically acceptable once he straightens out the duvet and pillows and flicks on the lamps as an attempt at mood lighting.

By the time he hears Max’s car pull up in the drive Lando’s lying on his back on the bed, phone barely held in the fingers of one hand and the other stroking over his own thighs, anticipating getting touched. He can’t stop himself smiling, hearing how quickly Max gets out and he’s bounding down the stairs by the time he hears the crunch of footsteps in gravel.

He has the door open before Max gets there and slams it closed the second he’s through, presses them together, face against Max’s shoulder. It’s not even horny, by the time they make contact, just the need to be felt and feel.

“Hey,” Max is holding him steady, as Lando shoves his hoodie aside to mouth at Max’s neck. “Bedroom? Or is it too disgraceful?”

Lando knows Max can feel him smiling, against his ear, “Shut the fuck up. I tidied.”

“Oh wow, you’re spoiling me.” Max drawls it while dragging him up the stairs, over-familiar with both Lando’s house and his body as he’s hauling him by the hip. “Next you’ll tell me you actually have lube.”

“I  _ do  _ actually have lube,” Lando decides to take back some control by shoving Max on the bed. “ _ And  _ condoms.”

Max snorts, looking up at him. “Congratulations from the safe sex board or whatever.”

Max’s hair is very slightly disarrayed, his hoodie rucking up where he’s fallen on the bed and then propped himself up on his elbows. There’s a streak of late-afternoon sunlight, the dying rays of the day, making a golden stripe across his shoulders and highlighting his jaw and the stubble Lando wants to feel on his own thighs. 

He looks  _ good _ , which of course he does but especially because his mouth is a little bit open, full lips quirked in a smile where he’s looking at Lando with open thirst. Max’s eyes are half-lidded and he’s flung his legs apart carelessly, sprawling with his lap open, waiting for Lando to climb onto him. 

It’s an invitation he’s got no intention of refusing but he pauses for a second longer, just to take in Max.The curve of his biceps where he’s leaning on them, the way his thighs fill out his sweatpants and the bulge of his crotch that Lando wants to get his lips against, mouth watering. Dubai treated Max well, even if Lando missed him at the end and fuck, why’s he waiting?

Strong hands grab Lando’s waist as he climbs onto Max and shoves his own fingers up the sides of Max’s hoodie, rucking it and twisting it as he leans down, pushing Max back into the bed by his shoulders. His fringe flops down to nearly blind him but it’s not as though they need to see to know the way to one another, now. 

Soft lips graze, gentle, over stubble and Max’s fingers tighten on him, when their noses rub and the kiss deepens. It’s like having a conversation; the initial touch a polite nicety, before settling into proper chatter with lips pressed, gentle against each other, until it escalates to one of them taking the piss and the other one letting him, tongues hot and teeth sharp where they swipe over or gently bite swollen skin.

Lando’s crotch is pressed against Max’s and he can feel them both slowly coming to familiar hardness, Max’s cock as hot and heavy as his own. It only takes a slight shift to have them moaning into each other’s mouths, Max’s fingers fluttering on Lando’s hips. moving to roughly run up his thighs. 

“ _ Max, _ ” it comes out almost whiny and he doesn’t care, it feels too good being on top of each other like this. He pushes his hips down, grinding and Max’s hands clench on his thighs and they need to be naked, like, five minutes ago. 

“Mmm,” Max hums against Lando’s throat, vibrations sending a shiver down his spine. “I really want to fuck you.”

It makes him shudder again, shifting off Max to lie on his back on the bed while they’re both shoving clothes off and Lando feels like he’s sinking into the duvet, into the comfort of this. He stretches, lazy, for the lube - where they left it last time, on the floor by the side of the bed and chucks it at Max, follows up with a foil packet and then lies back to admire the view of naked, tanned Max.

There’s a fuzz of hair over his chest and thighs, less than Carlos but enough it  _ does  _ something for Lando, like seeing it is seeing Max extra-undressed, no posed Insta topless shot, just him as Lando gets to have him. Max’s hair is coming out of its carefully-combed style from where he’d pulled his hoodie over his head, curls falling over his forehead almost into his eyes and the line from jaw to neck to collarbone is lit just  _ so,  _ shadows a stark guide to where Lando wants to run his tongue.

“Are you…” Max trails off a bit, bending Lando’s leg up to get better access, “seeing anyone else, y’know?”

Lando shakes his head, closing his eyes and settling back, getting comfy as he hooks his own ankle over Max’s shoulder, lets him get where he needs to. “Nah. Only you.”

“Cool.” Max says it totally casually, as his finger pushes into Lando and he has to concentrate on that, not the conversation for a second. Max is gentle, he’s always gentle but the sensations are so intense, being breached and feeling someone else inside him. It’s nice, slick, intimate and it makes him want more but also feel so vulnerable, so cared for it’s the thought of how Max does it lovingly that makes pink heat flush across his chest, more than the way the stretch lights up pleasure.

He drops a hand to his own dick, holding it loosely and just stroking lightly, fingertips moving in time to the way Max is rubbing inside him. It turns into a game, by the time Max has three fingers in him, making Lando arch and squirm between the two sensations, until he has to circle the base of his cock and open his eyes to ask for mercy before he comes on Max’s fingers. “C’mon, fuck me.”

Max looks as flushed as him, touching his own dick too and a question waiting in the way he’s looking at Lando, thinking about something. “Can I?” He gestures at the hard, leaking head of his cock, “y’know, without?”

Lando has to think about it for a minute because it’s kind of gross? And kind of irresponsible? But also kind of absolutely fine and a bit sexy and he clearly shouldn’t be allowed to make any important decisions when he’s horny because “yeah, ok.”

They get back to kissing, while Max pushes in, Lando’s legs looped round his waist, until Max has to drop his head to Lando’s shoulder and whine for a moment. “God, it feels -  _ you  _ feel, fucking incredible.”

It's a  _ lot,  _ having Max in him and the burn is nothing to do with it. Lando feels soft, stretched out, laid bare, like Max is staring into his soul not just fucking his arse and it all comes out in a growling sob. "Jesus, Max. Move."

Max's cock is heavy and thick where it drags over his prostate and it’s the feeling of being full, of being combined with Max so completely, that gets him on the edge of coming, as much as the way his own dick’s being rubbed between their abs. When Max comes, thrusts turning jerky and then stilling, he slips a hand between them and wanks Lando off until he forgets how to feel anything other than the way the world is folding inwards into the nonexistent gap to each other, intimacy vertigo making his stomach drop as he comes all up it. 

“Fuck.” Max says it reverently enough it sounds more like a declaration of love, rolling off and then curling round him. “I did actually miss you already, earlier.”

Lando hums, face against Max’s forearm and eyes closed, “I know. S’why you called.”


End file.
